Strings of Melody
by CrapPishh
Summary: It had taken such a long time for him to finish composing what he had started on years ago, but now the lyrics meant so much to him, more than ever.


Seriously, I know I should be doing up chapter 8, but I had a 'sudden burst of inspiration that comes when you're sitting out there at sea on a powerboat with a guy that's sleeping on the other side because it's so freaking hot and there's no wind so the 420s can't move and you're the last mark boat left out at sea because the race is still ongoing and the SRO demands O2 course when it's so freaking obvious they can't make it in time'.

Mehhs, it felt good to say it all out. PM me if you really want me to clarify all that. You'd probably stop me before I even get through half of it anyways. (:

I should really look into demanding a pay increase, but oh well.

This story is dedicated to Bakamono Kor, Keen, hence the choice of song and instrument. :D  
He's really a good source of inspiration for my writing.

This story may or may not be up to the same standard as 'Regrets', because it didn't have any actual basis to sculpt the storyline on. But please review, all the same.

Like DarnedNoob, my next chapter won't be out until I come back from camp on the 17th (no, we're not attending the same camp, in case you were wondering). But unlike him, I write longer author's notes. (:

* * *

"Pride and fame are both damaging; they make people totally unrecognizable and change them completely, inside and out. They make one do stupid things, but the first I ever did, was to not realize how much you meant to me. This song is dedicated to you, Rae, the one who got me where I am today," he announced, his strong, clear voice echoing out from the speakers around the hall as he addressed the rows of fans seated below the stage, anxious to hear his latest song. "It took me so many years to finally perfect the lyrics, and they never meant more to me."

He brushed away locks of auburn hair from his face as he moved his fingers with ease over the strings; chord after chord came streaming out like a river of water, joining effortlessly to create a wonderful melody. As the crowds below cheered and screamed, waiting for him to begin singing, his eyes closed, and thoughts flashed in his mind; thoughts about the events that had shaped his life to what it was today, and all his regrets.

--

"Hey, Rae, what're doing?" an adolescent boy asked, hand grasping a scratched ice wand as he imitated his best friend, who had pressed her face firmly onto the glass window of the local music shop.

"See that guitar over there, Nate? That antique wooden one?" she pointed with a sigh, eyes fixed on the prize. "One day, I'm going to buy that guitar right there, and use it to perform to lots and lots of people!"

"You wish," he replied, rolling his eyes. "Your parents won't let you, for sure. You are the only child to the line after all…"

"It sure sucks to be the old man's goddaughter," she answered, pouting, still transfixed on the guitar.

"Yeah well, people envy you for that. Anyway, we should be focusing on our job advancement exams, not debating about the advantages and disadvantages of having such an influential godfather."

--

"Nate, Nate! Guess what?" a girl yelled, ecstatically, as she ran towards the abovementioned boy, whose attention was fixed on his textbook. "The shopkeeper said he'd be willing to give me free guitar lessons! I asked if you could too, and he said okay."

"Umm, sure, I guess," he replied, hardly paying any attention to what she had said, nose still buried in the book. "We have exams next week, you know. You should be studying."

"Okay. I'll get on it soon," she answered, half-heartedly, mind focused on something else.

--

_A few weeks later_

"Rachel Fiona Valentia! What have you got to say for yourself?" a loud voice demanded, its owner clutching a crumpled piece of parchment in one hand, the other clenched around a cane.

"I tried my best?" the guilty party tried to excuse herself, but no avail. The cane came down with speed and precision, as expected of a highly-skilled hermit. Rachel cringed on impact and let out a soft whimper of pain.

"All you give are excuses! Your godfather was sorely disappointed in you! You're lucky he pulled strings and passed you, or I'll have no face to show around town!"

The weapon was raised and lowered again in a flash, giving its target no chance to brace for its contact with the same, raw spot on her skin. Tears streamed down as Rachel let out a howl of pain.

"You spend all your time thinking about guitars. No wonder you don't perform well! I absolutely forbid you from learning how to play that ridiculous instrument! Go to your room and reflect, young lady!"

Rachel dashed up the wooden staircase, wiping tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her fairy top. She locked her door and started screaming into her pillow; screaming about how misunderstood she was; how she hated her life.

--

He had known all this because Rachel had shown his the cane marks over her arms in the playground the next day, and sworn him to total secrecy. But he didn't have the courage to tell her, that he had heard the yells from his house across the road, and hadn't dared to come over and check, lest he get in her into further trouble.

But seeing her pained expression and the pink marks streaked on her arms as she ranted on and on to him; it made him just want to reverse time and intervene, to take the punishment on her behalf.

--

_A month later_

"Nathan!" Rachel screamed, running up to him excitedly during recess, holding a glossy advertisement in her hand. "There's a guitar competition coming up!"

"So?" he questioned, running his fingers over the strings of his borrowed guitar as he waited for her to sit next to him on the bench.

"Well, I was hoping you would enter…." She added, hesitantly, as she sat down and looked away. "After all, you've improved so much in such a short time and you sing really well!"

--

"Why did I ever give in… " Nathan muttered to himself, as he pushed open the glass door of the air-conditioned auditorium with his left hand, guitar in his right.

"Nathan Sindell, right?" one of the judges seated at the table asked him, peering over the edge of his paper and gesturing for him to take a seat.

After a nod of affirmation from the nervous mage, they signaled for him to proceed.

"Umm, I'll be playing 'With You', by 'Chris Brown'."

The moment the pick strummed the first chord, all nervousness and uncertainty disappeared from him. Nathan smiled and closed his eyes; his fingers were familiar enough with the strings on their own, he didn't need to look. They moved with ease as his soul and the melody blended as one.

Five minutes later, Nathan left the room in a daze, clutching onto his guitar tightly as Rachel squealed in utmost delight upon hearing that single sentence.

"I got through."

--

For the next two weeks, the duo either spent countless hours in the Ellinian Park helping Nathan practice his pieces or in the music shop, preparing meticulously.

Even though Nathan was the one participating, Rachel was working equally, if not harder, than him, desperate to bring her dream somewhat closer to reality.

--

"Nate, relax," you'll be fine," Rachel tried to reassure her best friend while they were seated backstage, waiting for his turn to come.

"What if I forget my chords? What if I mess up?" Nathan fussed, obviously stressed at the thought of performing in front of a live audience for the first time.

"You'll be fine," she repeated, firmly, handing him his guitar as a crew member signaled for him to go up on stage.

He turned his head back with uncertainty just before walking past the red velvet curtains, and met with Rachel's signature smile and thumbs up sign. He bore that image in his mind as he squinted in the bright light shining down mercilessly on him, trying to regain his composure.

As always, the moment he started, the moment music came streaming out, he calmed down and worked his own magic.

Backstage, Rachel teared in joy.

--

"I have to leave Victoria, Nate," Rachel murmured, quietly, trying her best not to spoil the happy mood as the two of them walked out of the concert hall that evening.

"Why?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer, eyes looking down at his shoes, which had suddenly become the most interesting thing he had seen thus far.

"I have to study in Ossyria, so I can take over Grendel's place when I grow up. There isn't a music shop there, I'm sure, so there's no chance of me being able to play the guitar anymore. I leave this weekend, so today will most probably be the last time I'll be able to walk here with you like this."

Silence ensued, the only noise being the squeaking of sneakers on the sidewalk as they continued home.

--

"Rae, this better be good," Nathan sighed, as he allowed her to drag him off after school the next day.

"You'll love it!" Rachel giggled, tightening her grip on his sleeve as she picked up her pace.

--

"Are we there yet…" he complained, wanting to finish reading his new book.

"Yup!" she answered, coming to an abrupt halt outside the music shop.

"Why are we here? My lesson isn't until tomorrow."

You'll see…" she replied, a mysterious smile etched on her face as she pushed open the door.

The familiar tinkling of the doorbell greeted them as they stepped in; Nathan could sense Rachel waver for a second there, thinking about everything that she was going to leave behind.

"Ah, Rachel," the shopkeeper welcomed her warmly, before handing her an oddly-shaped package, "Take good care of it.

She thanked the shopkeeper, and turned to a mystified Nathan.

"Nate, this is for you. Open it."

He willingly obliged, tearing the brown paper as gently as he could. His eyes widened in shock as he recognized the content of the package almost immediately.

"Rae, this is…"

"Yup, it's the guitar I've always wanted. I bought it for you, as a parting gift."

"But, you don't have to. I really don't need it…"

She cut him off.

"Nate, please, continue your lessons and master the guitar. I know it's not your wish, but please, help me fulfill this dream! You have the talent and means to make it. When you become rich and famous, don't forget about me! And when I finally get back, make sure you play the guitar for me. Promise me…"

"I promise."

At that point in time, he swore to himself that he would do whatever she wanted him to, and would never break that promise.

--

"Rachel, come on, the ship's leaving."

"Yes, father," the girl replied, looking back wistfully as she boarded the majestic ship bound for Orbis, hoping earnestly to see a familiar silhouette, hoping to hear a familiar voice call out her name, even if it were for the last time in her life.

That was one prayer that was never answered; Nathan hadn't come to see her off, but she couldn't, no, she refused to believe it.

--

"Come on, come on, think, Nathan, you can do better than that," he scolded himself, while frantically scribbling line after line of words onto a piece of paper. "No, that's not right."

He crumpled it up roughly in a fit of frustration and tossed it behind, clearly missing the waste paper bin and joining a mounting pile of paper balls.

"Crap, I'm late!"

--

"Rachel!" he shouted, as he pushed open the gates of the ticketing booth, expecting to see her smile waiting for him.

But all he saw was the sight of a ship leaving the port, its gigantic propellers working away, transporting the passengers to another continent.

"No, it can't be. I'm too late."

He fell on his knees and let the two streams of water trickle down from his eyes.

--

_A year later_

Nathan had become the leading male singer in the whole of Victoria Island, and his fame spread to its neighbouring continent not long after. Rachel had managed to catch a glance of one of his concerts on the Maple TV one day, and secretly laughed at how nerdish he used to be, compared to that pop star icon he now was.

--

_A few years later_

Over the course of the years, Rachel had written uncountable letters to him, but by some cruel twist of fate, none had been delivered.

She simply waited for him, constantly reassuring herself that he was just busy. Deep down however, she knew that he had probably already forgotten about her; his promise long broken.

--

"Rachel, you've grown up at last. It's been a long time since I last saw you," Grendel announced, looking fondly at the Arch Mage standing in front of him. It was hard to believe that this lady wielding a mighty blade staff was the very same one he had watched grow up, from her diaper-wearing days, running around the magical library, fascinated by mere sparks of magic. "It's time you became my assistant and learn all the responsibilities involved as the head of the mages. After all, you are taking my place in the future."

"Really?" she responded, wide-eyed, before fingering her staff hesitantly. "I don't think I'm ready yet… there's still so much I have to learn!"

Grendel chuckled as he ruffled her hair.

"I have faith in you."

--

"Today, we're lucky to have Nathan Sindell, the musical wonder that appeared practically from the middle of nowhere and shocked the island with his abilities. Not only can he sing, he mastered the guitar within mere months!"

"Thank you for having me," Nathan thanked the MC cordially, sitting down on the couch and looking straight at the camera.

"You've rocked the music scene in only a matter of years; a feat envied and unrivalled by fellow singers. How did you get where you are today?"

"I don't know, really. I entered a guitar competition a few years back and won. I guess that's how my career kick-started."

"Why did you start learning to play it anyway?"

There was an unusual pause as Nathan debated with himself.

Should I reveal my promise with Rachel? But then again, we were young; we didn't really mean what we said. Besides, it's been such a long time.

"Oh, I started simply on a whim, nothing to it."

"Ah, I see. Is there anyone you want to credit for helping you become the star you are today?"

"No one at all," a smug smile plastered itself on his face as he covered the truth.

--

"Rachel, come out here for a minute," the ancient mage called, looking at the one seated at his desk.

"Writing to him, again?" he asked, quietly, seeing the pen in her hand and sensing her concentration as he walked over. "You know, it's probably never going to reach him."

"I know," she answered, not looking up. "But I can try."

--

_Several months later_

A severe coughing fit sounded from the hospital ward as Grendel pushed the door open. Seated on the solitary bed was a woman holding a pen, eyes focused on a piece of paper. In place of what used to be natural, wavy brown hair sat an artificial messy wig; a weak attempt to cover up what had been lost as a result of the chemotherapy.

"Rachel…" he sighed, shaking his head sadly. "Give up already."

"I just can't, godfather. I can't."

Ink blotted as tears rained down onto the words she had written. A second later, another fit hit her.

As he watched Rachel gasp and wheeze for air as she struggled to battle the disease, the old man knew he had to do something.

--

"Mr. Sindell? You have a package," a delivery man called, standing outside Nathan's room.

"Really? I wasn't expecting any presents," he answered, strumming several random chords on his electric guitar and not even bothering to open the door.

"It's not from any fan girl, I can assure you," the delivery man replied.

Wait a minute, Nathan thought. His voice, it seems, so familiar…

Nathan yanked open his customized teakwood door and saw the white-haired mage with twinkling blue eyes staring back at him; he hadn't changed much, even after so many years.

"Master Grendel…"

"Ah, Nathan. Look at how much you've grown."

"Master Grendel, why didn't you just tell me you were coming to visit? I'd let you in any day, so you wouldn't have to go through so much trouble."

"Well, I did come to deliver a package," the magicians' head answered, holding out a box, which looked as if it had been wrapped in a rush. "I'd better go now. I have things to do. Take your time."

As Grendel smiled and warped himself away, Nathan stood at the door frame, puzzled. What could he have meant by 'take your time'?

"There's only one way to find out," he sighed to himself, as he placed it on the table, nimble fingers prying open the folds.

"Whoa, so many letters… What? This one even dates back to five years ago!"

--

_17__th__ November 201x_

_Hey Nate,_

_I'm settling in nicely here; the weather conditions here in Orbis aren't that different from those back in Ellinia. I don't know when I'll be able to go back to Victoria, but I hope it'll be soon._

_Why didn't you come to see me off last week? I was waiting for you to show up, but you didn't. Guess you had stuff on. I don't mind, really._

_Remember to work hard and master the guitar. You'll have to play for me when I get back! _

_Need to go now, will write more some other time._

_Take care._

_Love,_

_Rachel_

_--_

"How come she didn't send this?" Nathan pondered, curiously opening another letter.

--

_4__th__ April 202x_

_Whoa Nate,_

_Nice work, dude! You made your way onto TV! I saw you on that talk show yesterday. Looking hot, compared to the nerd I used to see everyday! People don't believe me when I say that I know you. They'll see when the time comes, won't they?_

_I don't think I'm going to return anytime soon though. Instead, I have to go to El Nath and learn from the job instructors. I really don't want to, but I have no choice. Why can't my parents just understand that?_

_I think I shouldn't bore you with my stuff anymore. How are things going for you? Been busy, I suppose; you haven't replied to any of my letters. My parents said they were sure to go through, and I have no reason to think they're lying. Take your time though; reply me only when you're free._

_Love, _

_Rachel_

_-- _

"What the… Since when did Rachel write any letters to me?" he wondered, puzzled, as he reached for another piece of paper. He noticed that ink was barely dry and there were still splotches of water all over, like someone had just cried over it not long ago.

--

The moment his mind registered the contents of the letter, Nathan grabbed his guitar and dashed out.

--

_8__th__ November 205x_

_Hi Nate,_

_I'm finally back in Victoria! It's been years since I last saw you in person, but your face appears from time to time on television programmes here and on magazine covers. Now you regret giving in to me and taking part in that competition? I don't think you are. It's not everyday that one gets to enjoy life as a superstar, so make full use of it. _

_When can you come and visit me? I really can't wait to hear you play. I bet you can play any song that I request, so be prepared for some hard ones!_

_I've got some bad news, I was diagnosed with lung cancer a few months back, and the doctors say I've got not much longer to live. The priests can't find a cure for my cancer, but they're still trying. I don't think they can manage to find it in time though. I'm going for an operation this afternoon, and the success rate is only 30 percent. _

_I know you haven't replied me since the first letter was sent out, but I don't mind._

_In case you forgot, today is the anniversary of that promise we made. Remember it? I'd really love to hear you play, even if it's the last thing I hear before leaving this world._

_Take care of yourself, alright?_

_Lots of love,_

_Rachel_

* * *

I apologise for any loopholes in the story, because I wrote this over different days and I think the storyline got a bit lost over time.

Oh well.


End file.
